


Messy Lessons

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Begging, Caught in the Act, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Loud Sex, Oral Sex, Professor Spencer Reid, Self-Insert, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sub Spencer Reid, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top, professor/student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27961532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: Sub!Prof!Spencer. When another student gets a little too familiar with Spencer, Reader claims her territory.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 95





	Messy Lessons

Dating your professor is, for the most part, exactly what you would expect it to be like. It’s hard to pay attention in class because you know you’re just going to ask them questions later, and it’s impossible to see them as an authority figure when you know you had them on the brink of tears on their knees a couple nights before.

Well, okay, maybe that second part isn’t true for everyone. But it was definitely true for me and Spencer Reid. It wasn’t exactly a secret that the two of us were dating, but we kept it quiet for the most part. I wasn’t taking the class for credit since, you know, the whole conflict of interest thing, I was just genuinely interested in the material.

But that morning I was interested in something else. Namely, what the fuck my boyfriend was doing performing a silly little magic trick for the President of his fan club.

I could practically feel his ego expanding to fill the size of the lecture hall as the girl squealed with excitement over a simple sleight of hand. Even worse, he refused to meet my gaze as I glared at him from across the room, even though I knew damn well he felt it burning into him.

It was all okay, though. He could be as much of a brat as he wanted, because I knew where he would be that evening. Better yet, I knew where he _and_ his number one fan would be. She always came to his office hours, after all.

So, that’s where I went, and that’s where I found him.

“Hey Professor.”

Spencer froze at the sound of my voice before he peered up from the assortment of papers in his hand. The fear in his eyes told me he had been expecting someone else.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?”

What a stupid question. Rude, too. Like his girlfriend _shouldn’t_ stop by when his door is open. Speaking of...

“I just wanted to have a quick chat with you...” I said with a dreamy sigh as the door clicked shut behind me.

With an audible swallow, Spencer asked, “About what?”

“You know,” I shrugged, “The usual.”

There were few things less exciting in life than the way his body tensed at my presence. The closer I got to him, the more visibly unnerved he was. He dropped the pen he was holding so I couldn’t see the way his hands trembled, and he turned his chair so that he would face me when I joined him behind the desk.

“W-We can’t,” was his horribly unconvincing reply. He went on to pathetically explain, “I have office hours starting soon. People might hear us.”

_I know_ , I thought, _that’s why I came_. And for someone who was going on and on about how we couldn’t, his body was giving a very different signal. I could see the pathetic twitch of his already erect cock through his slacks.

“I forgot to lock the door, too,” I mumbled through a pout, turning back to flash a cursory glance at the door before I shrugged and said, “Oh well.”

When my hands started to work at his belt, Spencer’s breath immediately shifted into high-pitched whines.

“Wait. Please,” he begged, like that had ever stopped me before. He didn’t mean it, anyway. If he actually wanted me to stop, he wouldn’t have lifted his hips so I could undo his pants faster. He just wanted to act innocent.

With a saccharine smile, I came nose to nose with him before I cooed, “Hurry up and give me what I want, and you won’t have to worry anymore.”

There was a slow, audible swallow before he croaked back, “What do you want?”

He already knew he was fucked. He knew he was fucked from the second I walked into the room. Realistically, he probably knew the second he didn’t even look at me while talking to another girl. But if there was any doubt over just how fucked he was, it was dispelled quickly.

Grabbing hold of Spencer’s fluffy mop of curly brown hair, I forced his head back to bare his neck to me when I growled, “I want you to apologize to me for flirting with that _stupid fucking bitch_ in class today.”

“What?” he said with the tiniest squeak, “What bitch?”

Wrong answer. It was such a bold question to ask that I wasn’t even going to dignify it with an answer. Instead, I brought my hand between his legs and shoved it through the hole in his boxers.

“Shit!” he hissed when my hand wrapped around his erection, pulling it free before denying it any of the friction it sought.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Professor. You knew what you were doing,” my voice was quiet and low, but I had no worries about him not being able to hear me. It was so clear on his face, the way he hung on every word I said. His eyes were half-lidded and glassy, but they were filled with so much desire and admiration that they seemed to make up so much of his expression.

He was cute, I’ll give him that. However, he was being punished because he was being a brat, and that dopey, lovesick smile would fade again when he realized how this was going to go. Through clenched teeth, I forced myself to remind us both why he deserved this.

“You wanted to get me jealous, and you succeeded. You asked for this.”

The second the last word left my tongue, I threw my leg over his. I watched the realization dawn on him, those loving eyes filling with fear as I straddled him on his chair.

“Wait! Wait, okay, fine, yes. I admit it!” he spoke frantically, his hands struggling to find a place to rest that wouldn’t land him in even deeper waters. When he couldn’t find any, he brought them close to his chest in a surprisingly kitten-like manner before he softly admitted, “I wanted to make you jealous.”

“Wow. You think you can just admit to being a brat and get out of your punishment?” I said through a burst of lighthearted laughter.

At first, he just whimpered, closing his eyes when he felt the soft cotton of my underwear brush against him. 

“Please. Please, show mercy,” he playfully replied under his breath. The request still somehow managed to sound so desperate that a part of me wanted to give in to it, but the rest of me was just pissed. Him begging _me_ for mercy?

“You didn’t show me any!” I scoffed.

“We’re both going to get in trouble if they catch us,” he pleaded.

It was probably true. I mean, I knew he would at least get in trouble. But honestly, I’m not sure they would even want to get into it with him. He was a prestigious enough catch for them that keeping him on the staff was probably worth the trouble caused by his student-girlfriend. We were very careful to follow _most_ of the rules they set for us.

So I ignored the very reasonable statement. And it seemed like I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t that worried about it, considering the fact he had many tools to actually make me stop and only chose a few simple begs. He didn’t even break out the waterworks. 

“Hm? What was that? Sorry, I can’t hear you,” I hummed, dipping my hand between us to pull my underwear to the side. With each passing second, Spencer’s breath grew heavier. He could barely keep his eyes open, clenching them shut and grabbing hold of his own shirt to try to stop himself from grabbing me without permission.

No, instead of muttering the safe word, Spencer just bucked his hips against me and let out a breathy, “Fuck, you feel good.” 

But it was too late for him to get out of it with mere praise. If he didn’t want this, he would’ve behaved better earlier. Once I had positioned myself against the head of his cock, I sighed at the way his body practically trembled with anticipation under me.

I placed both hands on the sides of his neck, letting his hair slip through my fingers before I continued, “You can hear me, though,” I mumbled through my smile as I started to lower myself onto him, “And so can _everyone_ _else_.”

I didn’t give him enough time to ask me what I meant. Once I dropped myself fully onto him, which was easier than I’d like to admit after his precious little show of resistance, I let out a loud moan. The hairs on the back of his neck stood, goosebumps covering his skin as whimpers and whines continued to flow freely from his lips.

“Ah! Professor Reid!” I cried out, “You feel so good!”

With every bounce, I brought myself down harder, continuing to elicit my own sounds of pleasure as well as exacerbating his. Eventually, he couldn’t keep his hands up any longer, and he grabbed hold of my hips in a very poor attempt to slow me down. If anything, though, his hands gripping me through the fabric of my skirt just encouraged me.

Of course, he had done it without asking, which meant that his punishment was going to get worse. And I had the perfect idea.

“Fuck me harder!” I groaned, remaining on his lap and slowly rolling my hips, “Take me, Professor!”

“Please, don’t do this,” Spencer whispered back, either unwilling or unable to speak louder. I had a strong suspicion it was the former. Because as much as he loved submitting to me, he also really loved the idea of people thinking our dynamic was the other way around. Granted, it was sometimes. But not today.

Before I could respond, my boyfriend nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, pretending like he just wanted to kiss me, even though we both knew he was just trying to prevent me from continuing at my current pace. He was trying to slow me down, to drag out this experience he’d just complained about seconds before.

“You know how to make me stop,” I sighed before pulling him away from me by his hair. I looked into his eyes and found exactly what I’d expected to find: a little bit of guilt and a whole lot of yearning.

Pushing him back against the chair, I chuckled just a little as I said, “Yeah. That’s what I thought. You fucking love them thinking that you have me bent over your desk. Let those little girls think you’re in charge.”

He didn’t argue, just nodded dumbly and clenched his jaw when I started to move again. Tracing a gentle finger over it, I felt the muscles twitch under my care.

“What would they think of you if they knew who you really are?”

I wasn’t expecting the question to have as much of an impact on him as it did, but his entire body tensed in response. His hands that had been firmly rooted on my hips quickly rose to cover his face. He threw his head back, a string of inaudible, likely foreign curses suddenly pouring from him. He wasn’t looking at me anymore, and I fully and decidedly did _not_ like that.

I tore his hands away as quickly as they’d come. Holding them down with all the strength I could without also losing my momentum, I seethed, “Look at me when I fuck you, Spencer.”

“I’m begging you, Princess,” he blubbered, his hips beginning to buck in contrast to his words.

“No, no, no. I know that voice,” I chastised, recognizing that he was already starting to come undone. “Spencer, I did not give you permission to finish.”

The poor thing was acting like he was being tortured. I guess that was my whole point, but it didn’t make my heart melt any less. He knew that there was little chance of me stopping, so all he could do was give one final appeal. Which, he did. Poorly.

“I know, I’m trying. You just feel so good and I haven’t touched myself since I saw you last and I—“

“I didn’t ask for your excuses.”

I covered his mouth with my hand. Slowing down my pace, I looked him directly in the eyes before I spoke, “If you finish inside me, I swear to god, I will make you clean up your mess. I get to finish first. Do you understand me?”

The whine that he returned then was so dramatic, so desperate that I had to believe it was genuine.

“Then please, Princess, let me touch you. I can help. I’ll be good. I’ll be a good boy for you, please,” he downright sobbed.

“Fat chance. If you want to prove you’re a good boy, hold it like I told you,” I huffed, returning to my previous pace in the hopes that I could at least finish faster for his benefit. “I’m almost done,” I tried to reassure him, unintentionally tugging hard on his hair in a way that essentially sealed his fate.

“I can’t,” he keened, “I can’t do it. I’m so sorry, Princess.”

There was no stopping him. Spencer grabbed hold of my hips and held me down against him with enough force that I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. As I felt that familiar warmth pooling inside of me, I tried to suppress the moans they elicited.

It was infuriating, not being able to fully enjoy it. I couldn’t even let him know just how good it felt to drive him over that edge. What it felt like to have him so enchanted by me that he couldn’t resist disobeying my orders.

So, I took that frustration and unleashed it in another way.

“You filthy, ungrateful little brat!” I screeched, my hand striking his cheek with a loud snap. The look he gave in response was just as intoxicating. It was a bratty little glance, a smirk made up of both pride and shame. His eyes searched mine from beneath his lashes, trying to anticipate my next move.

“I hope you’re ready to pay for that, Spencer,” I growled, grabbing his cheeks with one hand to wipe that smile away. It worked. That pinching of his already red-tinted face combined with the sudden overstimulation as I continued my feverish bouncing without any pause.

“I will. I will, I promise,” he groaned, managing to keeps his eyes open for me now. “I’ll do anything for you, Princess.”

Jealousy overtook me rapidly and without warning. It was deeply unfair, really, that Spencer was essentially getting pampered for his behavior. Sure, he was in a bit of pain from me forcing him past his initial limit, but this exact scenario also doubled as a _reward_ for him. Nothing made him happier than getting the opportunity to fuck me after finishing inside of me, knowing that he was forcing his release further into me.

I tried not to think about how much he was getting out of defying me. And thankfully, it was easier than it sounded. Spencer was being genuine when he said that he wanted to help me. He snuck his hand down to where we met, pausing just a moment to moan at just how wet it was with our mixture.

Using that, he clumsily thumbed at the small nub at my crest, his eyes locking with mine as my movements became disjointed. Beyond the occasional whimper, he stayed silent when I started to come undone, opting to spend all energy on ensuring I had the best experience possible.

Because for as much of a brat as he was, Spencer was also, deep down, a good boy who just wanted to make me happy. That was the thought that drove me over the edge. When my muscles started to tense around him, he pulled me closer, laying sloppy kisses over my neck and cheeks, whispering sweet nothings between each one.

Once I did manage to come down, I could barely keep myself up. Thankfully, he refused to let me budge even an inch. He didn’t even stop his incessant lips from pressing into every inch of exposed skin until I made him.

“I can’t believe you. I gave you _one_ rule,” I said, the exhaustion clear in my voice.

Spencer was just staring up at me with those same wide puppy dog eyes. He chewed on his bottom lip and uttered a small, sad, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I sighed, “I know you just wanted an excuse to touch me more.”

His whole body perked up at the idea. Nodding excitedly, his words slurred together as he agreed, “I want to make it up to you. I want to be good.”

I believed him, and it brought the first genuine smile to my face of the evening. But it was short lived, because as soon as I dismounted, I was reminded of his defiance from mere minutes earlier. Even worse, Spencer was watching the way he dripped down my thigh with such a pure satisfaction that it boiled my blood all over again.

Collecting the mixture on my finger, I brought it up to his lips. He didn’t resist at all, opening his mouth and cleaning both of us from my finger with an unrivaled enthusiasm. After he was done, he displayed his tongue to me like he was expecting something else.

“You don’t get any praise today, Spencer. You have not been a good boy. You’ve been a very, very naughty boy,” I lectured, rolling my eyes at the way he had the audacity to look disappointed. I waved my now clean hand at him as I instructed, “Get up. I’m sitting in the chair. You don’t deserve it. Get on the ground.”

He stood on shaky legs, reminding me for just a second just how small I could feel next to him. But that fear quickly faded, replaced by a wave of pride as he tucked himself away and dropped to his knees in front of me.

I plopped down in the chair with a wide grin, sinking into the lingering body heat and propping one leg up on his desk and the other over his shoulder. Spencer didn’t hesitate for a second to turn and kiss his way up to my thigh. But he stopped before he got too close, waiting until my fingers wove through his hair again.

“Keep going. Clean up your mess,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Yes, Princess.”

That certainly took no further provocation. His tongue began drawing up my entrance with long, slow laps. My back arched almost immediately, forcing my hips harder against his face. “Fuck, you’re so good at that,” I said through a breathy moan.

The little bit of praise went so far for the man buried between my legs. He moved more freely, his hands digging into my legs as he pulled me closer to him, continuing to ravage me with none of the cautions he’d had at the beginning of this encounter. 

“Professor,” I cried, my head falling back as he started to suck and nip at the already sensitive flesh. The slew of sensations was so overwhelming that it almost felt like we were the only two people that existed. It was just the two of us, desperately seeking to be closer as we freely indulged in whatever depravity we desired.

It almost felt like we were alone. Almost. 

The opening of his office door paired perfectly with Spencer’s muffled moans. I’d heard the click and creaks, but he hadn’t. He was… preoccupied.

I, on the other hand, was perfectly capable of opening my eyes to lock my heated gaze on the very familiar, infamous face from earlier.

And I smiled. I smiled because that stupid girl looked absolutely _mortified_. She stared at me living out her wildest fantasies in front of her. Gripping even tighter to Spencer’s hair, I urged him to continue, to work me harder until I was left a mess in his hands once again.

“Oh, Professor,” I groaned, refusing to look away from the one who was responsible for this entire ordeal. I almost had the wherewithal to thank her, but my wonderful boyfriend was too busy trying his hardest to distract me. He ended up winning.

With one final cry, I threw my head back and bucked my hips wildly against him as my whole body shook. I held him as close as I could with both legs locked around him.

When my eyes finally shut, I heard the door close again.

Even then, Spencer took a second longer to finally stop. He maneuvered my legs off his shoulders carefully and tenderly, pressing a kiss to each of my knees while he caught his breath.

“Did I… Did I hear the door?” he said between his heavy panting.

“Nope,” I said with a pop of my lips, “Just us. Completely unbothered.” 

He definitely didn’t believe me, but he still nodded absently. And when I leaned forward, gently fixing his hair, he nuzzled against my palm with that same kitten-like behavior from before. I couldn’t help myself anymore, pulling him forward until our lips connected.

I kissed him hard, but he was too busy smiling and laughing to focus. As I pulled away, I broke my previous promise and whispered, “Good boy. You did such a good job.”

“I thought you said no praise today,” he said through a shy pout that was meant to hide a smile.

“I’ve decided that you’re a good boy for cleaning up your mess,” I cooed, my fingers ghosting over his skin until they made it to his chin.

I tilted his face up, thoroughly enjoying the way he followed my implicit orders without any resistance. Pure contentment flowed between the small space. I placed one more soft peck on his lips before I cheerily finished, “And as for the stupid bitch, I cleaned that one up on my own.”

“What do you mean? What did you do?” he asked, fear sprouting anew among the joy.

“Who, me? Nothing,” I laughed, “I did absolutely nothing.”

And I was right; she didn’t bother us anymore.


End file.
